I was six weeks pregnant when I started traveling with Number Three, the nickname of the baby growing inside of me. Wade and I would argue back and forth about who should be Number One — and then the other would be Number Two — but there is no doubt about who would be Number [...]
I was six weeks pregnant when I started traveling with Number Three, the nickname of the baby growing inside of me. Wade and I would argue back and forth about who should be Number One — and then the other would be Number Two — but there is no doubt about who would be Number Three.
Wade and I had just graduated from Global College a few weeks before, and were now visiting my family in Maine. The plan was that we would meet up later on in Budapest — Wade would fly there from New York, and I would join him a couple of days later from Maine.
But these plans changed as I discovered that I was pregnant.
So Wade made a detour through Maine to see me and to make sure that everything was alright before we would depart for Eastern Europe.
So we had already told my parents that I was pregnant, stocked up on prenatal vitamins, and promised to visit a doctor as soon as we landed in Budapest, and took off out of Maine.
Wade had traveled in Hungary over the summer and I had somehow managed to convince him to return to the USA and finish our degrees together in New York. So he had already purchased a roundtrip air ticket before leaving Europe (an escape plan).
When I decided to return to Hungary with him, I found it was much cheaper to fly New York to Dublin on Aer Lingus and then take a Ryan Air flight from Dublin to Budapest rather than to take the same flight as Wade — who was flying on a different airline.
My flight to Budapest was cheaper but it had a long nine hour layover en route. So Wade and I flew from Maine to JFK together on Jet Blue, hung out for a couple hours in the airport where Wade even bought me a salad.
“But we never buy food in the airport, it’s too expensive” I protested. But I quickly relented, knowing I was now going to have to get used to making sure I was getting all my vitamins — I would be eating for two from here on out.
The flight from New York to Dublin wasn’t so bad, though I was thankful to have an aisle seat for how often I had to get up to pee. I checked out all the parents traveling with their babies on the way: a two month old going to visit his grandparents, a nine month old returning home. It was reassuring that Wade and I could continue to travel in this new phase of our lives.
After landing at the Dublin airport, I took a long nap. I woke up nauseous. I barely made it to the bathroom in time. An old Irish lady with blue hair looked in the stall at me “Are you alright, dearie?” I nodded and fumbled through my backpack for my toothbrush.
“I’m pregnant” I said sheepishly.
The Ryan Air flight from Dublin to Budapest could be called typical. In the terminal I was exhausted but still stood in a long line in order to have a chance at seizing a desirable position in the aircraft. Ryanair doesn’t reserve seats.
But — pregnant, ill, and all — I fought for a good seat, and won.
I fell asleep before take off and barely woke up during the duration of the entire flight. I was relieved and excited to see Wade waiting for me in the Budapest airport. I knew that our pregnant traveling adventures were about to begin. I wasn’t too nervous about traveling pregnant then.
Perhaps this was because I had no idea how it was going to change my traveling life.